Doctor Who - 03 - The August Sky

.7. All Things Lost

The beach seemed to stretch forever, fading finally in a haze of a distance. The ground was coarse and the sea was dark blue. It had yet time to polish the rocks and to grind pebbles into fine, white powder. Instead of palms, which would probably look quite natural here, huge fern trees lined the shoreline. The sky was incredibly clear.

The Doctor inhaled deeply, shoved his coat's tails aside and pushed his hands deep into the trousers' pockets. He looked down, at his converses, sinking slowly in wet gravel. Small waves foamed and swirled at his feet. There were trilobites and ammonites crawling among the rough pebbles.

"Not much to interfere with, indeed," the Doctor said. "All completely new, freshly unwrapped. It's hard to imagine that this world is already billions years old, isn't it?"

The TARDIS was silent. She waited patiently, without her usual excited hum, not quite audible, unless you knew what to listen to. It seemed she was holding her breath.

The Doctor strode up the shoreline, to where rocks sheltered a shallow cave, full of finer pebbles and dried up algae. He sat down, crossing his legs, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced in front of him.

"So old, yet so young," he said.

"Just like you," said Donna. She straightened her purple top, lifted the legs of her trousers, and sat down next to him. She brushed her hair away from her shoulders. "All these times I asked you to take me to the beach," she sighed. "It seems I had to die to finally get here."

"You're not dead," the Doctor murmured.

"No, I'm like that cat in the box, you know; the Schrödinger's cat? Dead and alive at the same time? Or maybe in two different worlds, as Hugh insisted – and I'll be dead in one world, and alive in the other, as soon as your decision is made?"

The Doctor looked at her wrinkling his brow.

"Nice," he grumbled. "Quantum mechanics. Schrödinger and Everett. Give me a bit of Einstein, Rosen and Podolsky as well, why don't you? Or maybe some Grishnnkh's volumetric stream equations. Cause they're never boring."

"I just want you to make up your mind, you plum!" she snorted and kicked the sand with the tip of her flip-flop.

"Donna, I..."

"Hey, mister, wake up! Wake up! Mister?"

The Doctor woke up with a start and looked up, blinking in bright sunlight.

"Huh? What?"

There was a stranger's face hovering above him – young, narrow, freckled and topped with a mop of bright ginger hair.

"You were sleeping on my doorstep, mister," the stranger said.

"Was I? Really? Your doorstep? What was I doing it for?"

"Well, you tell me," the man laughed, straightening his back. "I honestly don't know. Would you mind moving, though, I'd like to get inside."

"Inside?" The Doctor looked back, at a crooked door, then again at the man, waiting patiently for him to shift. "Right. Sorry. Never happened to me before. I thought... I thought I was someplace else. Some time else. Mid Devonian, from the look of it."

He got up slowly, staring up and down the narrow, cobbled street.

"Say, you haven't seen a blue box, by any chance?" he asked hesitantly. "A big, blue box, a police box?"

"A police box?" The man wrinkled his brow. "I don't know what you mean."

The Doctor chewed on his lower lip, now taking in the man's clothing. It was very plain and covered in sooth. The man wore a grey, cloth trousers with suspenders, worn leather shoes, and a short jacket. The trousers were slightly too short, and the jacket too big. The man had a peaked cap, perched on top of his ginger mop.

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said. "Sorry. I must have been very tired."

"Tim," the man said. "Timothy O'Leary."

"Nice to meet you, Timothy O'Leary... Oh... Timothy O'Leary! You're Timothy O'Leary!"

"Yes," Tim moved a step back. "So?"

"No, nothing, no," the Doctor stuttered quickly. "It's just... Nice to meet you, Timothy O'Leary, so very nice to meet you!"

"Do I know you?" the man asked.

"No. Nooo. Not at all. No." The Doctor gave him his broadest and most loony smile. The man smiled back, hesitantly, and gestured towards the door of the old, crooked house. The Doctor stepped aside, still grinning, letting him pass. The door opened and a little girl jumped outside, her flaming hair flying behind her.

"Daddy!"

"Well, hello, Penny!" Tim shouted, reaching out to catch her in his arms. He lifted her high in the air. "My sweet Penny!"

"Did you bring me something?" she asked, kissing him on a cheek, her arms wrapped around his neck. "Did you bring me something, daddy?"

The man's smile faltered a little.

"Not today, Penny," he said. "Sorry."

The girl pouted a little. The Doctor started suddenly, and pushed his hand into his coat's pocket, his long fingers searching.

"Erm... Tim?" he whispered, and behind the girl's back he handed the man a bright red ribbon. Timothy looked at it, his brow furrowed. The Doctor clucked his tongue and winked at him. Timothy hesitated, but picked the ribbon from the Doctor's open hand.

"Right," he cleared his throat. "Actually... there's a little something..."

He sat the girl on top of a stony wall and handed her the ribbon. Penny shrieked with joy. Taking the opportunity, the Doctor produced his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the girl and her father, hiding the blue glow in his cusped hand. He checked the sonic's readings with his brow furrowed in deep concentration. The device trilled and hummed.

"It is lovely, daddy! Oh, it is gorgeous!" the girl shouted.

Timothy turned his face towards the Doctor and mouthed a happy "Thanks."

The Doctor nodded with a smile and pocketed the sonic. He looked up and down the street again, taking in the rows of small, cheap houses, which would be pretty grim if the weather was bad, but in full sunlight seemed pretty hospitable and nice.

"Eeerm... Could you tell me... cause I'm such a scatterbrain... Where exactly... umm... are we?" the Doctor asked.

"Are you lost, mister?" Timothy said, his sing song Irish accent more prominent than ever. "It's Orchard Street."

"Orchard Street, right!" the Doctor turned away, then faced Tim again. "Eeerm... what town?"

"Why, it's Dublin, where else could you be, mister?"

"Where else, indeed," the Doctor smiled. "I'll be on my way, then. And... sorry for sleeping on your doorstep. I don't know what got into me. Must've been tired."

He made a move to walk away, but Timothy called after him: "Wait, Doctor."

"Hmm?"

"Step inside," the man said. "My wife's cooked some stew."

"Ohh," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "I couldn't possibly..."

"Well, you're lost and tired, ain't you? We'll feed you and then I'll help you looking for that blue box of yours," Timothy said. "You run inside, Polly, tell mum we have a guest."

The girl disappeared inside the house, giggling, the red ribbon held tightly in her fist.

"Mummy!" she shouted. "Mummy! Look what daddy got me! A ribbon! And a red one. And it's gorgeous! Much better than the one this silly, ugly, naughty Tom Noble stole from me!"

"After you," Timothy O'Leary said, gesturing towards the door. The Doctor looked around again, inhaling deeply through his narrow nose, and then letting out a long breath. He hesitated for a second, and then made a step towards O'Leary's house.